Graveyard
by LoonRider
Summary: Shepard walks among the ruins that were once her ship and deals with a grief that's still too fresh in her heart. (Tracy Shepard. Colonist/War Hero. Mid-ME2)
This was actually the first Mass Effect fic I wrote, funnily enough... I have such a backlog of these things.

Spoilers: ME2 beginning. Set on Alchera during the DLC crash site mission.

#

"I have detected an anomaly." EDI's voice was perfectly neutral, perfectly calm.

 _Anomaly_. Her ship. Her beautiful, mighty, steadfast ship was reduced to an 'anomaly', a curiosity. Shepard had to work not to let that sting. She had to work even more to keep her own voice level. "I'm going to the surface."

Joker didn't turn his chair, just glanced over his shoulder. "You gonna be okay getting that monument into the shuttle on your own?"

She nodded. "Maintain orbit. I'll be back soon."

"Aye, Commander."

He left it at that, and she was grateful, saying nothing more as she turned and headed straight for the elevator, down to the shuttle bay.

...

The planet was covered in snow, quiet and still. And amidst the rocks and the still-falling flakes, the Normandy SR-1 lay in pieces. The monument almost felt unnecessary; the Normandy's pieces served as her gravemarker. But still, Shepard found one of the largest pieces, the piece of the hull that was marked with the Normandy's name, and placed the Alliance-made statue. It looked noble and new, out of place on the snowy ground, but time would take care of that.

It wasn't her only goal though. There was another matter: twenty crewmembers had not made it off her ship, and their families deserved closure. She'd have done it even if Anderson hadn't asked her.

The thought of her former commander gave her pause. What had he thought when he'd heard that his former ship had been destroyed. Loss, maybe, over both the ship and the crew that hadn't made it out. Shepard felt that loss herself, especially keen as her eyes caught the glint of metal in the snow, a military dog tag.

She kept walking, listening to her boots crunching in the snow through her suit's audio receptors. More dog tags. Her old N7 helmet (and how had it gotten detached from the rest of her? ... Probably best not to think about that). And, near the wreckage that had been her interface with the galaxy map once upon a time, a malfunctioning datapad. Pressly's.

 _I would die for any member of this crew ... regardless of what planet they were born on._

Shepard smiled, resented her helmet for not allowing her to rub her stinging eyes. She'd have to make sure she was presentable before she got out of the shuttle. But before that, she kept looking. Eleven dog tags. Thirteen. Sixteen. Eighteen. Twenty. Accounting for all the crew that hadn't made it off the Normandy before she was destroyed.

Clutching them tight in one hand, Shepard walked back to the shuttle, but turned to give one last look at the ship that had chased Saren through the galaxy and led the charge that destroyed Sovereign. She looked back down at the dog tags in her hand, closing her eyes and letting out a long, slow breath.

"I'll make sure it's worth something."

Her words dropped like the snow, soft and all-covering. She'd never considered herself a religious person, especially after the attack on Mindoir, but she found herself hoping that somehow, those dead crewmen could hear her.

...

Her return to the SR-2 was without fanfare. Everyone knew better than to press, she figured. More than she'd expected of some of the Cerberus crew. Shaking that thought from her head, she made her way back to the cockpit to find Joker once more glancing over his shoulder. "Hey. Welcome back, Commander."

"Thanks, Joker." She leaned on the back of his chair, and noticed his eyes catch on the dog tags. "Kelly's transmitting the data back to the Alliance. We'll be dropping off the physical tags for delivery next chance we get."

He nodded. "I'm glad you found them. Our people deserve it."

"I know." A long pause, and then she looked down at him. "Actually, I expected you to ask to come with me."

He snorted. "Right, 'cause I totally want to break my ankles and ribs and... everything... on some ice planet." After only a few seconds, the smile faded, and he looked back front. "But seriously, I didn't really wanna see the Normandy like that. I like remembering her as she was... Besides, I figured you'd want to go it alone."

The brought her up short, and for a while she stared at an insignificant chunk of bulkhead. When she suspected Joker was about to ask if she'd gone statue on him, she finally sighed. "You're right about that. Feels like yesterday that we lost her, to me."

"Yeah, amazing what a two-year death coma will do to you." He let it linger for a while before looking at her again. "You okay, Shepard?"

She smiled at him. "I'll be fine, Joker, but thanks for asking." She straightened up, touched his shoulder. "Take us out of orbit. We still have a galaxy to save."

"Aye aye, Commander."


End file.
